


Sherlollipops - A Delicate Touch

by MizJoely



Series: 221 Sherlollipops [187]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Setlock spoilerish, Sherlolly - Freeform, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:24:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7083211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's gotten a bit too scruffy for his own taste. Molly Hooper to the rescue!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlollipops - A Delicate Touch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mellovesall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellovesall/gifts).



> This naughty little fic is for mel-loves-all, based on our shared enthusiasm for some very scrumptious setlock pics of Sherlock (spoilers for that particular look only). I mentioned a nice hot bath, barbering came up and...well, you'll see!

“I could do it.”

Sherlock scrunched his brow, tilted his head and looked over at Molly, who was perched on the lid of his toilet. “You? Molly, I know I said I trusted you, and I meant it, but it’s a straight razor...”

“And my dad was a barber,” she reminded him. “Taught me everything he knew.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, ran a hand across the near-goatee that had taken over much of his lower face, and considered the offer. He was sat in his bath, the razor, shaving cream and a towel laid carefully on the edge. The problem was the steam from the bath made it nearly impossible for him to catch a good view of his face in the small mirror he’d attached to the tap. But if Molly said she could do it... “Right,” he said with a decisive nod. “But you’ll have to get into the bath with me.”

Molly grinned and began shucking her clothes. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow again; yes, he’d expected her to agree, but only after blushing and averting her gaze and other shows of girlish protestation. He was pleased that she’d decided to just cut to the chase, as it were, although the real test would be when they were both naked. He shoved the shower curtain aside so that it no longer half-hid his body, and caught her glancing sidelong at his wet form as she shimmied out of her khakis.

The case had been exhausting, both mentally and physically, and he’d slept for a full twenty-four hours at its conclusion. Molly had come over just as he’d sunk into the steaming water of his bath, to make sure he ate while Mrs. Hudson was out of town. He’d called her into the bathroom with the curtain half-drawn for modesty, and now...now Molly was delightfully naked, although with her back to him as she wound her hair up into a bun on the top of her head.

And it hadn’t taken any earth-shattering confessions from either of them, just a simple realization that the time had come. The time was now. No deductions needed.

She hesitated only a fraction of a second before turning, but he anticipated the defiant expression she was now wearing. He allowed his gaze to move down her body, deliberately lingering on her breasts, noting the flush that arose as well as the fact that she made no move to hide herself from his view.

When he’d reached her toes he moved his gaze back up, once again lingering on her breasts before reaching her face. “Well?” She spoke in a level tone, but her cheeks were very pink. “Do I pass muster?”

“Your breasts are perfect,” he said frankly. “I was an idiot. Lucky for me you’re the forgiving type.”

“True.” Without another word she stepped into the tub, balancing herself with her hands on his shoulders as she eased onto her knees. Sherlock couldn’t help noting that the way she straddled him was the perfect position for sex, if it wasn’t for the way the bathwater would wash away their natural lubrication.

Pity, that. Ah well, nothing to it but to wait until she’d finished shaving him and they’d both dried off.

Then, he decided, he’d enact one of his favorite fantasies: he’d pin her to the glass-paneled door that led to his bedroom and fuck her into oblivion.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Molly began the delicate task of shaving him with the straight razor. She carefully applied the shaving cream, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she worked. Sherlock remained  _ almost  _ perfectly still; his cock, it would seem, had a mind of its own and was not above demanding her attention by hardening and twitching.

He could hardly blame it when she was leaning forward just enough for her nipples to graze his chest; his own nipples tightened in response, and it was all he could do not to drag her closer, fling the razor into the sink, and ravish her right then and there.

When she’d finished, Molly sat back on her heels a bit, regarding her handiwork with a critical eye. “Got it all,” she finally pronounced, smiling proudly. As her eyes met his, no doubt reading his hungry look, her smile faltered, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth. She regarded him from beneath her lashes, and that. Was. It.

Sherlock pulled her close, his mouth claiming hers in a hungry kiss. She responded with enthusiasm, not to mention a great deal of tongue, and before he knew it she was grinding against him. His cock certainly appreciated every thrust of her hips, but his brain was prodding him to get on with the drying off and the thing with the door, didn’t he remember the thing with the door? The thing he’d been fantasizing about not just today, but every time he took a bath and imagined Molly joining him?

Five minutes later he’d got them both out of the tub, still kissing, bodies entwined, and managed to fumble one of the bath sheets off the rack and wrap it over her shoulders. It covered her from shoulders to ankles, and she giggled as he awkwardly tried to use it to dry her off. “I’m good, Sherlock,” she breathed into his ear as she allowed him to maneuver her closer to the bedroom door. “See for yourself.”

Then she placed his hand between her legs and ohhhh yesssss, she was  _ absolutely  _ ready for him. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure; he pressed two fingers inside her and moved his mouth to her throat, sucking hard as she moaned and wrapped her right leg around his thighs. 

_ The door thing, _ his brain reminded him insistently, and his cock twitched in agitated agreement. He pulled his fingers free with a great deal of reluctance, then lifted her up; she squealed and grabbed his shoulders, and after a bit of fumbling he managed to breach her entrance, both hands firmly grasping her sweet little bum. He squeezed and thrust; she moaned and thrust back, and they were soon pounding out a delicious rhythm, the door thumping in its frame and their mutual sighs and gasps and grunts echoing throughout the small room.

After a period of blissful motion Sherlock felt the oncoming rush of orgasm, and eased one hand between their bodies in order to thumb her clit. She squealed and bucked and with a great shout, she came, her orgasm triggering his so that they finished almost at the same time. 

Breathing hard, heart thundering in his chest, Sherlock eased them both down so that she rested on his lap, her head on his shoulder as he sat on the cool ceramic tile of the floor. “That was worth waiting for,” he heard her mumble against his skin, and could only nod in agreement.

“Yes, well, let’s not wait another six years before we do it again,” he said.

He felt as well as heard her muffled snort of laughter - and agreement. 

Ten minutes later they were in his bed as she ran her fingers over his freshly shaven face. “I like the scruff,” she murmured, “but I have to say, I think I prefer my detective clean-shaven.”

“Mmm.” he replied as he bent down to take one nipple delicately between his lips. “Time to test out just how closely my new personal barber managed to shave me, eh?”

As he worked his way downward, being sure to rub his chin and cheeks over her soft, pink flesh until he finally landed between her legs, both brain and cock agreed that yes, this was definitely what he should be doing right now.

Judging by the agreeable noises Molly began to make as he set his tongue against her sex, she had absolutely no objections.


End file.
